Ready To Fly
by SparkleLikeASparklyThing
Summary: /Oh let him go bluebird, ready to fly/ Patricia breaks up with Eddie in the middle of an airport because she's scared. Things are going too fast. Once home, the two broken-hearted young people recover, and slowly fly back to each other. For hbhs12. Based on Sara Bareilles song 'Bluebird'. R&R, I don't own song. hbhs12 owns plot, I just write the story.
1. 1 Eddie

**This is for hbhs12 for coming first in my competition. Check them out, they're amazing and lovely and so nice. They own the plot to this story, I'm just writing it. So sorry it's late, I was ill‼ I don't own House of Anubis.**

"I'll see you at Anubis, Kay?" I say to the red-headed girl standing before me. She smiles, but it barely crinkles the creamy skin around her eyes. I frown for just a fraction of a second, and then run my thumb across her cheekbone. A blush creeps over her skin. Patricia never blushes. A blush creeps over her skin. Patricia never blushes. Sasses, sarcastic-s and pours milk, yes, but blush? No. It just doesn't happen.

"You alright, Yacker?" I ask, leaning into kiss her gently. My hands clasp her waist and just for a minute she holds me tight, like she doesn't want to let go. I can feel small hands curl into the back of my shirt, and she buries her face in my chest. Then she lets go, ducking out of my grip and composing herself, smoothing down auburn hair that has frizzed up across her forehead. I want to make a comment about electricity between us, but she looks so depressed that I resist.

"Eddie…" he trails off, clenching her hand into fists so tightly that I see her knuckles go white. I reach out to clasp her hand in mine, but she flinches and jerks away. I have caught her in her moment of vulnerability and she wants to get away.

"Eddie I need to tell you something." The words come out in one breath, and her eyes harden, she fixes her stare on a sign for _Duty Free _above my head, takes a deep breath and begins again.

"Eddie… Ithinkweneedtoendthis." The words leave her mouth so quickly I can barely grasp what she is saying. I splutter a bit as I reply, brows furrowed, hands stiffly by my sides.

"What?" I squint, even though it is a four am plane and there is barely enough light to see with my eyes open wide. I study every inch of her pale, nervous face until I have her expression memorised; every contour, every freckle, every tiny little blemish. I already have her picture in my wallet – I could never forget her face. But I have a feeling I'm going to want to look back over this moment with a large container of _Ben & Jerry's Oh My Apple Pie_ and a box-set of _Law & Order_ whilst I lie on the sofa and throw shoes at my wall.

Totally not weird. I swear.

She doesn't look how I expected her to. If I caught her muffled, mumbled and far too quickly paced words right, she's breaking up with me. Is it wrong to want to see conflict on her face? Anger? Sadness? I just want a _reaction_.

Instead, her eyes are blank, her face emotionless and expressionless. I see no anger, no sadness, no conflict etched across her features.

She is the normal Patricia again, recovered from her brief moment of vulnerability. She is cold and harsh and sarcastic and _hot a_nd I love her.

"I think we need to end this." She states simply, her voice showing no signs of sadness. Just words, empty words that mean noting as they fall from her mouth. But they mean everything to me – they are the defining moment of my first _actual _relationship. The first girl I ever actually loved. Not, like, cheap make out session behind the bleachers for a pair of hormonal teenagers. Actually loved.

Loved.

Now all I see is anger. I want to scream and yell and punch a wall and just cry. But I won't. Because that is not how guys are stereotypically supposed to deal with anger. We punch things and release pent up emotions playing Call Of Duty. At least, Mick and Jerome and Alfie and Fabian do. I think.

No. I can't. I will talk it out quietly and respectfully and get a straight answer out of the girl who just broke my heart because I want to know why. What did I do wrong? I want to fix it, make everything okay again, and kiss her. Which I read on the internet is totally normal teen hormones, so I'm not too worried about my emotional confusion. At least, I don't think I am.

"You're… what? You're breaking up with me?" I must radiate hurt by now, because Patricia's steely glare at the _Body Shop _sign near the Terminal softens for a moment. Just a moment, but the moment stretches to infinity, infinity to eternity, and all I can do is shake my head and stare hard at her.

And Patricia is gathering up her suitcases and her Duty Free bags and walking away, and it takes everything in me not to run away and break down. Instead, I grab her arm, gently, softly, tugging her back to me. Spinning her around in the process, I look her directly in the eyes and she falters, the words her mouth was about to say choking in the back of her throat and al that comes out is a coughing noise.

Then she composes herself and looks up at me. I am eight inches taller than her, which has never been more significant than now.

"I'm sorry," Is all she says. Should I be happy? Or disappointed.

"Then why are you leaving me?" I ask, confused and hurt. So hurt I can barely breathe!

"It's… too fast. I can't do it. I can't make you happy. You'll find a prettier girl, a better girl," She stops there, turning to run away and board a plane back to England, away from me.

I let her. I release her arm and she runs, shaking her head and shoulders as she speeds past the boarding gate.

I let her go. I let the only girl I've ever loved run away from me.

I let her go.


	2. 2 Patricia

**This is for hbhs12 for coming first in my competition. Check them out, they're amazing and lovely and so nice. They own the plot to this story, I'm just writing it. So sorry it's late, I was ill‼ I don't own House of Anubis.**

"You're… what?" Eddie gasped, looking me straight in the eyes, confused and hurt. "You're breaking up with me?" I nod, taking a deep breath in and a deep breath out. Sighing, I begin to turn away, picking up my bags and heading towards the boarding gate. But there is a warm, large calloused hand gripping my shoulder, and it spins me round, pulling me back. Eddie stares down at me, his eyes sad and filled with tears. I know he won't cry. Not here, not now. When he gets home? God, he'll sob like hell. I just know it.

"I'm sorry." I say, barely able to get the words out. I am sorry, so sorry. But I can't do this!

"Then why are you leaving me?" He asks his voice stronger and less sad. He looks like he is about to cry, or punch a wall. Or both.

"It's… too fast. I can't do it. I can't make you happy. You'll find a prettier girl, a better girl," I turn away, and this time Edison Sweet lets me run away from him, from America, from the first guy I've ever been in love with.

I sit on the plane, burrowing into my seat. We are delayed for half an hour. Half an hour of Eddie blowing up my phone with calls and texts and voicemails. I ignore and delete them and finally text him back. Just four little words I hope I don't regret.

_'I can't do this.' _He replies continuously, all of his texts the same

_'Why?'_

_'What happened?'_

_'Talk to me‼!'_

_'Answer your phone!'_

_'Yacker pick up!'_

_'Please answer!'_

_'What did I do?'_

Finally, I turn off my phone. I don't want to see how sad he is, how much I have disappointed him. How I broke him heart and stamped on it in my red converse and poured milk over it for good measure. Greta. Now that's the image I have. I think I might vomit.

A flight attendant stands at the front of the plane, demonstrating life jackets. I furrow my brows, then clench my fists and breathe. It was a lot easier flying across the ocean with Eddie next to me.

No! I can't think about that.

The woman at the front is now putting on a bright yellow oxygen mask, pulled from a box near the suitcase of a disgruntled man with blonde hair. Eddie? Everyone on the plane resembles him now, even the pilot.

I hear a whir and feel a vibration, and then the plane is rolling down the runway. We are tilted backwards and then there is a feeling of weightlessness. This coupled with the pain in my ears and lack of Eddie (who I know it was _completely _right to break up with), sends me spiralling down into a violent panic attack.

The entire plane feels too small, too stuffy and claustrophobic. Everything spins, and the walls of the cabin close in on me. My breathing comes in short, dogged pants, and my heart rate rises dramatically. I can't breathe, I can't see, I can't speak. The world is fuzzy now, and my hearing feels as if I am slowly drowning, water flooding my ears. Black spots, a little blurry at the edges…

"Miss, are you alright‽" Says the short woman sitting next to me. After a sharp intake of breath, I turn to look at her, and I see in her face that she really does care. And that feels good, because no one's ever really cared that much about me – except the people at Anubis and Piper. Everyone else just sort of tossed me aside.

"Y-yeah… I'm good," I mutter, heartbeat slowing to a more normal pace. I close my eyes and breathe gently, gripping the armrests like a lifeline. Yep: so much better when Eddie was there.

"Fear of flying?" She asks quietly, her hand patting my knee gently. I nod slowly.

"Something like that."

For the rest if the flight, I close my eyes, grip the armrests in a vice like hold and huddle into the scratchy nylon seat. Then I eat crappy aeroplane food from a sectioned plate and look nostalgically out of the window at America.

No, I won't miss it. Definitely not.

But I might, just might, miss a tall, blonde, leather jacketed doofus with small brown eyes and really, really good kissing skills.

The landing is less painful, with less panic. I just breath and suck on a boiled sweet I found at the bottom of my carry-on. The minute we are allowed to turn on our phones, I call Trudy to ask for a lift to Anubis. My parents are away and my house is in Essex – it's just too far away. SO I stay at Anubis; it's easier, and I'm completely prepared for the next term at school.

Trudy meets me in the airport foyer (**A/N: Do Airports have foyers?) a**nd hugs me tightly. I smile gently, hugging her back, but now all I can feel is hurt. Hundreds, thousands of miles away across the ocean, Eddie is there, my ex-boyfriend who I broke up with because it was all going too fast. I was scared. I am a coward and a cruel, spiteful witch. No wonder people don't like me.

"Patricia dear, are you alright?" Trudy shakes my shoulder and I paint on a bright, false smile and nod my head rapidly. We walk to the car and I hop into the passenger seat, as Trudy drives back to the school.

My phone buzzes loudly in my pocket. Eddie. Another text, probably him telling me he's already moved on. I open it and gasp internally. Three words and a small heart emoji, typed six hours ago and sent to my phone. Gosh, I just want to kiss him now.

_'I love you.'_


	3. Joy

So sorry this is so late! The homework is piling up, and I'm in a public speaking contest. The delightful hbhs12 owns this plot, so go check them out!I hope you like it!

I don't own House of Anubis.

When the shiny red Mini pulled up outside Anubis house, Patricia felt sick. She felt bile rise in her throat, and after quickly hugging Trudy and kissing her cheek, she dashed inside and sat by the toilet. No vomit came, but tears did. They rolled quickly down her cheeks, smudging her Maybelline: The Falsies mascara so that it fell in lines down her face, and leaving her kohl eye pencil in huge rings around her eyes. She hugged her knees to her chest and buried her face in them, holding both her hands and pretending one was his.

Patricia cried for an hour. She put her head in her hands, she yelled, she threw a toilet roll (two ply – Amber would kill her) and then she finally managed to crawl along the tiles and lie curled up on her bed, tears still running down her face. Eddie had stopped frantically texting and calling her, but she had thirty seven missed calls and thirty voice mails. Opening one, she listened as his voice drifted down the phone.

"Patricia, please talk to me! I need to know that you got home 're freaking me out. Please, call me back. Or text me. Just let me know why you dumped me. I'm not gonna drop the 'L.O.V.E' bomb and guilt you into coming back, because I respect your decision. Just talk to me - just give me a reason?"

Her phone clattered to the floor as she lobbed it at the door.

She stopped crying after a few hours. She wiped her eyes, re-applied foundation and gently squeezed a few of Joy's eye-brightening drops into her eyes. Putting on a comically wide grin, she wandered downstairs to Trudy, who passed her a hot chocolate and a small cake. Winking, Trudy left, and Patricia sipped her drink, trying desperately to still her shaking hands. They continued to quake, and she gave up, slamming the mug down on the countertop. Sloshing over the side, the drink spilled at the sudden impact, but Patricia simply slumped down onto the table, heading her hands, and dry-sobbed. No tears would come - her eyes were dry, even with the drops.

Her life became a repetitive sequence of false smiles and used tissues. Wake up, eat, listen to music, eat, watch television, eat, sleep. All through it she grinned manically at Trudy, who believed every word. It was a dance of deceit, skillfully played out so many times that it became second nature.

One evening, when she finally let her facade fall and began to sob, a mousy brown haired girl with tan skin and wide eyes bust through the door.

"Hello Anubis!" She yelled, throwing her bags onto her bed and flinging her hands into the air. She stopped dead in her tracks as she saw Patricia, curled up and shaking on her bed.

"Trixie… What happened?" Joy asked, rushing over to embrace her friend. Her grip was tight and comforting, and Patricia just cried into her shoulder.

Joy was worried now. Patricia never let anyone see if she was sad - not even Joy. Usually she just yelled at people; at least until she met Eddie. The angry girl finally opened up to someone, and she was so happy.

Joy gasped.

"Patricia… Was it Eddie?" The auburn haired girl nodded, her sobs stopping. Sitting up, she breathed deeply, in through her nose, out through her mouth. Nodding, she wiped her eyes and opened her mouth, letting out a yawn. Grieving over a breakup (especially when she was the one who instigated it) was tiring.

"Oh God! Patty, what did he do? If he hurt you - I'll bloody kill him!" Patricia shook her head rapidly, silencing Joy's rant.

"I dumped him." She stated simply. Again, Joy exhaled sharply. First in relief, then in shock, then in confusion.

"Why? I thought you loved him," Patricia immediately tensed up, breaking away from Joy. Looking defensive, she hunched her shoulders and frowned.

"I do!" Joy was completely baffled now. Patricia was weird, sure, but this was a whole new level.

"Why did you leave him then?" She asked. Patricia went blank. She began her breathing again, her shoulders shaking.

"I don't want to talk about it. Just be all sympathetic, will you?" Joy nodded deliberately, furrowing her brows. Patricia sat next to her, propped up on pillows and the headboard.

"I have some sappy films - we can watch them and laugh at the stupid characters, if you want?" Joy asked meekly. Patricia just nodded, blinking back tears.

"I have to ask though - if you dumped him, why are you so upset?" Patricia shook her head, rumpled red hair flowing over her shoulders.

"I just - I don't know if I was ready to end it. I regret it now, so much. Maybe it's just confusion?" Joy sighed. She's never been in a proper relationship, and she was sure she was more qualified on the subject than her friend.

"Honestly Patty: I don't know what to do with you. You're so in love with him you don't even realise! Just ask him to take you back!" Tear tracks still etched across her cheeks, Patricia shook her head sharply.

"I can't! Sure, I want to, but what if the breakup was the right decision? I can't break his heart twice, Joy!" Shushing her friend with a calming pat on the back, Joy grabbed her laptop, clicked open a DVD and pushed it into the slot.

"What are you doing?" Patricia moaned, but Joy ignored her, pushing her friend backwards and setting the computer between them.

"Please. I'm your best friend - you think I don't know how to make you smile?" Joy laughed slightly, and Patricia's lips curled up slightly.

"Forrest Gump?" Joy just smiled, digging Patricia in the ribs.

"We'll talk more later, yeah? Let's just… watch."


End file.
